The morning sun felt mocking as it spilled across Meira's bed. She sat up slowly, every muscle in her neck protesting with a sharp, throbbing pain. Looking at herself in the vanity mirror, the faint purple bruises were a grim testament to the fact that the "drama" Divya had dismissed was a terrifying reality.
But the physical pain was nothing compared to the ache in her heart. For a brief moment, during those quiet glimpses of Divya's "motherly" side, Meira had allowed herself to believe there was a shred of humanity in this house—a caring part of Divya that she could lean on. Yesterday's cold, public rejection had shattered that illusion. Divya hadn't just denied the attack; she had tried to erase Meira's sanity.
Meira looked around the room, her eyes landing on her half-packed suitcase. She didn't want to stay in this house of horrors—she missed her quiet apartment and her simple life. Yet, the thought of leaving now felt like a defeat. She was this close to understanding Kiran. She was starting to see the invisible threads of unknown connections.
If she left today, Kiran's truth would remain buried forever.
A soft, hesitant knock at the door broke her train of thought.
"Meira? It's me," a voice whispered.
It was Taniya.
Meira stood up, clutching her robe tightly around her bruised throat. "Come in, Taniya."
The door creaked open, and Taniya stepped inside, carrying a small bowl of crushed ice wrapped in a cloth. Her eyes immediately went to the marks on Meira's neck, and her face crumpled with a mixture of pity and fear.
"I brought this for the swelling," Taniya said softly, stepping closer. "I'm so sorry, Meira. About everything. Aunt Divya... she's not herself lately. She's terrified, and in this house, fear looks a lot like cruelty."
Meira took the ice pack, the coldness a brief relief against her skin. "Why is she doing this, Taniya? She knows I didn't make that up. Someone tried to kill me."
Taniya looked toward the door to ensure no one was listening, then lowered her voice to a tremulous whisper. "She's not just trying to get rid of you, Meira. She's trying to save the family's image. But there's something you need to know before you go. Something about the day Kiran died."
Taniya's voice was barely a thread of sound, trembling as she relived the horror. "Kiran died on her 14th birthday, Meira. We were all on the top terrace of the mansion. Everything was supposed to be perfect—Aunt Divya had just arrived after eight years. But that day..."
Taniya froze, her eyes glazing over with the memory of the trauma.
"That day... Taniya, speak! I need to know!" Meira urged, her hands gripping Taniya's arms.
"Kiran suddenly fell," Taniya whispered, a tear escaping. "We had no idea how she even got to the edge, but she fell... right into that sharp thorn tree in the backyard. Her whole body was... it was pierced everywhere. It was so cruel, Meira. No one should ever have to die like that."
Meira froze. The mention of the 14th birthday and the thorn tree acted like a key turning in a rusted lock within her mind.
(Meira's memory)
The memory surged back, vivid and painful. Two weeks had passed since Meira's mother had been buried. Meira's eyes were still perpetually red, the mourning period far from over, but she had promised her grandmother she would rejoin school.
She hadn't spoken to Kiran in over a month. The last time they had talked, Kiran was excitedly inviting her to her grand birthday party. It was the same day as Meira's birthday, but since Meira never celebrated hers, she had never told Kiran they shared the date.
Meira grabbed her bag, her movements frantic. "Grandmother, I'm leaving for school! Please take care of yourself," she called out, rushing toward the door. "I have to speak to Kiran today... I have to tell her why I disappeared."
The sound of a tiffin bag hitting the floor with a dull thud stopped her in her tracks.
Meira ran back to the kitchen. "Grandmother! What happened? Are you okay?" She reached out, checking the old woman's forehead for a fever. "Are you not feeling well?"
"She's dead," the grandmother whispered, her eyes staring at nothing.
"I know, Grandmother," Meira said bravely, swallowing her own grief. "I know Mom is no more. It's okay. We'll stay together, don't worry." She offered a small, loving smile, trying to be the strength of the house.
But the grandmother shook her head, her face a mask of tragedy. "No, Meira. I mean Kiran is dead."
Meira's world shattered. The ground felt like it had vanished beneath her feet. She couldn't believe it—the girl who was her only friend, the girl who was supposed to be celebrating her birthday at that very moment, was gone.
She remembered the grave silence of the grandmother when she had picked up that phone call years ago. The call had been the news of Kiran.